In the Firelight
by loveretriever
Summary: Bofur & OC. Characters may be either movie or book-based, but most certainly AU. Now more than just a one-shot, by request
1. Chapter 1

For Doc,

Merry belated Christmas!

* * *

It was dark and Thorin was making the return journey. He had been to see Dain's people, hoping to get some aid. The dwarves of the Iron Hills were stubborn and solid in their firm rejection. Thorin shook his head, continuing his trek. He knew it had been a slim hope to even think that they would accept him.

Dain was his second cousin, but he had a vast people to overlook. Dain was successful. Thorin was not.

Thorin kicked the ground in disgust. Yes, he envied Dain. Thorin was ashamed that, though they were both princes, Dain was able to succeed where he was not.

Reaching the grassy downs of the Shire, Thorin stopped and rested his head against a conveniently located tree. It probably wasn't placed there for that purpose, nor was it used to such treatment, but Thorin didn't care.

Sitting down, Thorin rubbed his head, hoping against hope that Gandalf would pull through for them. Gandalf the Grey was a wizard, and one of the greater Istari in the land.

Even though everyone knew Saruman the White was the greatest and chief of the wizards' order, Gandalf was the one all common folk looked to for help. Whether you wished it or not, Gandalf the Grey would be more than willing to help a bloke in need.

Sighing, Thorin got to his feet and nodded his head decisively. Yes, he would check out this hobbit halfling. If he was half the burglar Thorin cynically allowed himself to hope for, he would take the thing along and pray that Gandalf would travel with them. After all, who had heard of a hobbit, much less a random place called the Shire?

* * *

Thorin and company were on the road once again, hobbit in tow. Gandalf lead the company, to everyone's surprise and delight.

But like all wizards, he kept his own agenda and left and returned in his own fashion.

Disgruntled, the dwarves rested once more, bemoaning the loss of Gandalf's company. No one blamed the poor wizard for having to keep an eye out for all Middle-Earth. And certainly no one blamed the hobbit, though the hobbit himself looked a poor little shrimp. The cousins Bifur and Bofur kept filling the hobbit's bowl with food.

Poor little Bilbo was adjusting to the new, harsh environment of living in the big, wide world. Without the Shire's protection, he felt a new kind of courage and thirst for adventure stirring within him.

Bofur stood first watch that night. And that's when he saw it.

A small movement caught his eye. Raising his mattock defensively, Bofur moved away from the fire.

There were two shadows that flickered in the shades of grey light. As the moon moved back and forth from the heavy cloud cover, Bofur could make out a lone figure.

The dancing shadows resolved themselves into one as a girl approached the fire. She was a shivering thing, probably a lost remnant of a band who had been attacked by orcs.

Deciding not to wake up Thorin, Bofur held out his mattock threateningly. "Who are you?" he whispered, voice hostile.

The girl froze mid-stride and brought up her dagger. "Who are you?" she responded in kind.

"I asked you first and we outnumber you." His hand never wavered, but his eyes focused on her clothes and her flushed cheeks.

"I am Jinny. At your service." She curtsied, wobbling a little.

Bofur, being a gentleman, smiled kindly and said, "Bofur, at your service." He bowed gallantly, causing Jinny to flush in embarrassment.

His manners were pristine and all that she could hope for in a rescuer. She had been left to wander the plains on her own. Lacking enough food and water, she had believed that a mirage had overtaken her when she saw the flickering firelight. Not wanting to torture herself any longer, she walked towards it, hoping her release into the next world would be shorter and easier that way.

Now, back in the world of the living, she was hard put to answer the multitude of questions this man - well, dwarf - asked her.

"Where are you from?" Bofur asked, casually, handing her a second serving of food.

"I come from the southfarthing plains, about ten days' distance, as the crow flies. We were driven out by the orcs and goblins. I was with my brother and father about five days ago out up north, towards those mountains." She pointed towards the horizon, where blue twin peaks stood up from the ground, marking the horizon line.

"What happened?" He couldn't help his curious nature.

She bit her lip. Stiffly, she said, "We were attacked" She flinched as he moved, recalling the events in her mind. He withdrew his hand, but she didn't seem to see him. Puzzled by her behaviour, his concern turned to surprise as her emotions overtook her body.

Silent tears streamed down her face as she ate, not looking up to see his reaction.

Bofur looked around uncomfortably. He noticed that several of the company were awake. But being the jerks that they were, they left him on his own. Damn them all for deciding to be gentlemanly now!

Cursing them in his mind, Bofur laid a hand on the sobbing girl's shoulder, hoping it would comfort her.

Instead, she took the gesture as a sign of friendship and embraced him, getting his shirt all wet with her tears.

"There, there," he murmured, hoping she would let go soon so his shirt would dry off. He knew what the proper thing aunts and grandmothers would say. But what was he supposed to do? Wondering if he was doing right, he stayed silent and let her make the first move.

She cried herself out, arms wrapped firmly around his chest. Tucking her head into the crook of his shoulder, she fell asleep. Exhausted emotionally and physically, the girl had reached her limit and passed out in Bofur's arms.

The hoots and catcalls made Bofur blush. Why couldn't they help for once, instead of looking on at their brother's problem? Where was Bombur when he needed something? Sighing in mock exasperation, Bofur made a face at his adopted dwarf family. They smiled and laughed, egging him on without budging an inch.

Bofur cursed his luck and carefully lifted the girl's sleeping form. Cradling her in his arms easily, he carried her to a spare blanket and laid her down. It was a warm night, so he left her as soon as possible, not bothering to tuck her in. Tugging off his shirt, he laid it out on the ground to dry. Exhausted himself, Bofur curled up against a tree.

"Take the next watch, will you?" Bofur called out sleepily. "It's past time someone took over instead of just enjoying the moment."

Thorin growled at Dwalin, who took over the watch. The rest grinned and smirked at the sleeping Bofur. Kili and Fili took bets on what would happen the following day.

Thorin was happy for his loyal friend and follower. If Bofur could find comfort and happiness, might not they all be able to?

It was a thought to ponder on a rainy day. For the moment, they had four more glorious hours of sleep before dawn. They would need their strength for the days' march as the next stop would be at nightfall. They needed to get across the plains unscathed. Hopefully, luck willing, they would make it to the next checkpoint without meeting a single orc.

Unfortunately for Bofur, sleep was shores away. He twisted and he turned. He tried several positions, but the tree always seemed to wake him up.

Finally, exhausted of fighting, he got up and walked over to the fire. Gloin, whose turn it was to watch camp, nodded his head as Bofur smiled faintly. Gloin was a good chap with a steady head. He had a family back home, but he was a loyal bloke who dropped everything to come on this adventure. Bofur admired Gloin's courage. If he had had a family like Gloin, Bofur wasn't sure if he could drop everything for some spur of the moment adventure with no guarantee of survival.

Bofur yawned and Gloin stood by the tree, knowing Bofur would tend the fire if necessary. Despite his weariness, Bofur was an alert chap who wouldn't just stand by idly.

Finally, Bofur decided enough was enough. Creeping over towards the blankets, he laid down on the unoccupied one. It was a grey blanket belonging to Gloin. As brothers in arms, they didn't mind sharing when one had watch. It was unusual as Bofur was used to his leaf green blanket, but he would make the sacrifice tonight. Anything for some sleep.

Unfortunately, Gloin's blanket was right next to Bofur's, where the girl was currently sleeping. As though sensing his presence, the girl scooted closer to Gloin's blanket and, consequently, closer to Bofur.

Bofur gasped when he felt something touch his back. Instinctively, he swung around, arm raised high. His eyes went wide when he saw the sleeping form of the girl. About to yell, he held his tongue and turned over, hoping she would continue sleeping and not move.

No such luck was with poor Bofur that night.

As if in invitation, the girl moved her body so she was touching him, one arm draped over his shoulder. Her legs were wrapped around his own and her breath tickled his neck.

He didn't push her away, but he wasn't quite sure how to approach the problem. Going over various scenarios in his mind, Bofur finally drifted off into a dreamless, peaceful sleep.

* * *

Bilbo was the first one awake at dawn. Relieving Gloin of the watch, Bilbo stretched and gazed at Bofur's sleeping form.

Rubbing his eyes in shock, Bilbo thought he had drunk some of Balin's devil's brew. But no, upon further inspection, his eyes were right. Bofur was larger than he had thought possible!

Shaking his head, Bilbo peered carefully and saw two distinct figures, one most certainly belonging to a female. Although whether she was human, elf or dwarf, he could not tell, Bilbo smiled at the sight and hoped Bofur was sleeping soundly. After taking the first three watches, Bofur would need all the sleep he could get. Oin, Bombur, Fili and Balin were slightly hurt and unable to watch the camp. With such a strain on their watches, it was imperative that every member of the company grab as much sleep as possible.

Bilbo kindled the fire to grow into a blaze once more and started to heat some water. Breakfast would be lovely today. Hobbit fashion.

* * *

"Wake up!" Bilbo said, happily, prodding the dwarves. "Wake up!"

The dwarves all grumbled in their sleep. Bilbo, having gotten used to this routine, nimbly avoided being kicked and punched by the various temperamental dwarves who had issues with rising earlier than usual.

Reaching Bofur and the girl, Bilbo softened his voice. "Good morning, sunshine! Ready for breakfast?" he asked, voice soft and lilting.

The girl yawned, stretching lazily. Her long arms and body were beautiful in the morning sun. Opening an eye, she sniffed the air approvingly. "What is that wonderful smell?" she asked, voice a bit husky because she had just woken up.

"That, my dear young lady, is breakfast. Would you like some?" Bilbo offered, ever the gentleman.

The girl nodded, fearing her voice would crack. Her throat felt dry and her voice sounded harsh to her own ears.

Bilbo prodded Bofur gently. "Bofur! Breakfast!"

Bofur's eyes snapped open. "Why do you do that?" he barked.

"Because it always gets you up before your usual time," Bilbo reproached the dwarf.

Bofur grumbled, sitting up.

Jinny eyed him uneasily, not sure what to say on the morning after.

The other dwarves, giving Bofur an invisible, 'I know what you did last night' gesture, left Bofur on his own. Again.

Bofur inwardly experienced another fit of anger. Of all times, the others had to pick now, when he needed their help the most, to be on their gentlemanly behaviour? It was ridiculous! Bofur sighed, shaking his head at the situation. How had he, of all dwarves, gotten involved in this mess?

Gulping, Bofur picked up a plate and offered it to Jinny.

Giggling out of embarrassment, Jinny accepted and waited for Bilbo to finish piling food on the plate.

"We're out of plates, so you'll have to share," Bilbo whispered, winking at Jinny.

Jinny blushed, and murmured a hasty, 'Thank you,' hoping that Bilbo was joking. She had been so worried about modesty that she had not even looked at the plate. Upon sitting down at the opposite end of the camp from Bofur, Jinny realized that Bilbo and company had dumped enough food for several people onto her plate.

Feeling like she was about to cry again, Jinny looked around. All the other dwarves, save Bofur, had breakfast.

Sighing, Jinny got up and approached Bofur warily.

"Good morning," Bofur said, deciding to be cheery and carefree.

"It is a good morning," Jinny agreed. "Would you mind sharing? Master Bilbo put too much on this plate. Seeing as how there are no more plates..." Her voice trailed off uncertainly.

Bofur smirked at her mention of Bilbo. 'Master Bilbo'? he thought. What was this girl thinking?

Recovering his composure, Bofur grinned. "Breakfast sounds good, milady."

Jinny blushed. She wasn't good enough for that title! Yes, she was a young lady. But, no, she wasn't anybody of importance. Taking his teasing for the joke it was, she sat comfortably and placed the plate between them.

It was an amusing morning as the dwaves ate and talked, cursing, burping and fighting openly. She admitted that she had missed this. When she had lived with her whole family, her siblings were much like these dwarves - rowdy, childish, spiteful, and playful. They had had food fights, camp watches, singing and cleaning up time. Each person had their own chores and everyone was responsible for something.

She never knew how much she had missed that until today.

Sighing, she did her best not to cry. She forced herself to smile and laugh, trying to enjoy each moment.

The dwarves invited her to journey with them, providing her with an extra pony. Embarrassed again at her lack of things to offer in return, Jinny accepted shyly. If only because she knew they were headed in the direction of her hometown.

She enjoyed the company of the merry band as it set off on its way. She enjoyed the high spirits and the feeling of belonging. She felt good and safe with them. They offered everything she could want. Including family. They didn't ask her for anything beyond what she was willing to give and that suited her just fine.

It wasn't until the nightly camp that she felt uncomfortable.

"Hey, I know something's bothering you," he bluntly said. Bofur inwardly winced at his own social shortcomings. Always a blurt-it-out type, he had no style, no charm. He wasn't Thorin, who was dashing and handsome. He wasn't Fili and Kili, who could charm an orc into thinking he was getting a deal when they killed him. He wasn't crafty Balin who could use references to the stars to get a girl. He was just plain Bofur. Blunt, straight to the point, the truth will hurt Bofur.

Jinny sighed, dreading this moment. Pushing a lock of red hair out of her face, she struggled to look up at him. She didn't want to see pity or comfort on his face.

Bofur sat down next to her, eyes on the fire. "I know it's hard. We're all the same here. Look at us, a wandering vagabond band of dwarves. Look at you."

She gulped nervously, afraid he was going to say everything she feared. 'We don't need you.' 'You're too young to be on your own.' All that nonsense.

Bofur forced himself to look at her. "You're a beautiful girl with a lot to offer this world. You're a survivor and you've made it this far. Pretty soon we'll be near that town you said you came from, if our measurements are right. Balin calculated it for us." Bofur stopped, unsure of how to proceed.

"Look," she said at last, when the silence had stretched on eerily. "If you don't want me, I get it. I'm not productive to your group." She continued to stare at the ground. Hesitantly, she continued, "I know I don't add anything and I haven't brought anything with me..." She bit her lip, worried what his reaction would be. Put like that, it did sound as though she were using them.

"No, that's not what I mean." He grabbed her arm a bit more harshly than he had initially intended. "I meant that you probably want to go back home. We're not home, not to you. We're family. But we're lost. We're making our slow, meandering way back to a home that may or may not be waiting for us. You have a home. And soon, we'll be there."

He couldn't say it. He couldn't say what he would miss if she left for her own home.

She wanted to tell him not to push her away, but her mind went blank at his words. He had let emotion seep into them and it stirred something inside of her.

Grabbing his wrist as he made to get up, she stopped his movement.

"I want to stay," she stated simply, finally looking into his brown-black eyes.

He was mesmerized by her green eyes. Her gaze held him and him alone as her glowing eyes glinted in the firelight.

Before he knew it, she had flung her arms around him. Pressing her lips to his, she kissed him in a possessive way. She was fierce and aggressive, the traits of youth.

His mind reeled, unable to hold onto a single thought.

As he kissed her back, he let his hands tangle in her long hair and allowed her to bury her face in his chest. She smelled like the wildflowers and he inhaled her scent. He was demanding and persuasive; she was willing and obedient as he took control. They fought for control, each giving in a little here and there. They indulged in a contest of wills and each and played hard to get in a teasing way.

She enjoyed feeling his lean form in her arms. His wiry muscles comforted her and although he was taller than her, she didn't mind one bit. She liked her men taller, anyway.

He loved that she was shorter than him. He hoped she had a lively, temperamental disposition. He welcomed the challenge and fun that would bring. He wasn't sure if he loved her, but he basked in the moment for what it was. For now, he was content.

And so was she.

The rest of the dwarves carried on as though nothing strange had happened. It was family, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

I didn't expect to continue this story. It originated as a single idea. However, here is the sequel, maybe not as requested.

Thank you to all who read the first part and to everyone who reviewed and favorited this story. I do appreciate it!

* * *

For Doc,

Once again, a story for you. Since it is the continuation, I deemed it fair to give you this as well. ^^

Happy New Year!

* * *

Jinny knew her homeland was in the southern plains, far away to the south of Gondor. Located in the southfarthing part of the map, according to her homeland, Jinny had grown up there. Only for the past year had she lived in the area ten day's march away from the dwarf band. Driven out of her home by orcs and the Haradrim, a grim people, Jinny's family had sought refuge in the mountains.

The mountains - they were glorious. Not like the mountains of Thorin's people, which were good for mining. These mountains were green and lush, brown land well-tilled and worked by the farming tribes. The people were peaceful and had few complaints. Well guarded by natural means such as rivers and the mountain itself, there had been little war and even less contact with the outside world.

Accepted as an orphan in the peaceful village, Jinny had been allowed to stay with the mountain tribe inhabiting the western side. But even though she had been taken in by one family, she was often left on her own because of her age.

Jinny had fended for herself for the majority of the year. Her brother had been slain by orcs when they were fleeing from the Haradrim just outside the borders of Gondor. Her father had died in the mountains from an infection. Jinny had never known her mother. Red hair and green eyes were all that remained - a distant memory from long gone days that Jinny never associated with anything other than her own reflection. All other family had been lost in the turmoil of war.

* * *

Bilbo Baggins was a very curious hobbit. He had come on this godforsaken journey, not knowing what he was really doing there. He wasn't one of the company. He didn't really have any family. Most of his possessions were back home in the Shire.

Bilbo eyed the company as they marched in the daytime. Making his own observations, he nodded and smiled, as though he were writing a book of his own.

Thorin, the leader and most striking dwarf in the company. Young, strong, and in the prime of his life, he embodied everything a dwarf king was imagined to be. He seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders and his arrogant, kingly bearing gave assurance that he would succeed in whatever he sought to achieve.

Balin and Dwalin were brothers. Balin, being older, was the wise one of the company. A hardened warrior, he had seen better days. But, as Bilbo knew Balin well by now, he was not deceived by Balin's benign, fatherly appearance. The old dwarf could still swing an axe as well as anyone - maybe even better. Dwalin was a burly bulk of muscle. All strength and imposing appearance. Bilbo shivered a little. He would not want to have to face down Dwalin on any day.

Fili and Kili were twins - the youngest of the company. Young and lighthearted, they brought joy to the company as well as making good swordsmen. They were quick with bow and arrow and lightfooted enough to pass through any area quietly. They made good scouts and were almost always seen together. Nephews of Thorin, Bilbo noticed that Thorin often kept a watchful eye over the youngsters.

Bifur, Oin, Gloin, Nori, Dori and Ori were all good sorts of dwarves. Bilbo wished he got to know them better, but they were quite friendly. Gloin was his particular friend, having been welcoming enough to let Bilbo in on many secrets. Bifur and Oin were the quiet sort. Dori, Ori and Nori were quite content to allow Bilbo in their company without talking to him much. Amongst the rest, they were as loud as any dwarf could be with a tankard of ale and good food. All related in some way, Bilbo found that when they were alone and believed they were unobserved, they could be the most rambunctious group ever found to walk Middle-Earth. It was an interesting study, one he hoped to pick up on more during the rest of the journey.

Bombur, Bifur's cousin, was only interested in food. He ate too much, drank too much, and spoke too little. His conversations revolved around food, fighting, and drink. Bilbo found much in common as they shared recipes. However, beyond that, Bombur was unintelligible, at least to Bilbo.

Bofur, the last of the company and Bombur's brother, was a particular friend to Bilbo. Unlike the others, Bofur was brutally honest and didn't play political games. He was a good sort, the kind of chap who liked a good laugh, enjoyed good food and drink, and didn't ask more than he had. He was content with his life and himself and he wasn't opposed to making new friends. In particular, Bofur had been the first one to reach out and accept Bilbo into the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain.

Bilbo remembered this well and was determined to help Bofur. And the rest of the company, as well. In personal matters, though, Bilbo took a decided interest on Bofur's behalf. Whether the dwarf wanted him or not, Bilbo was determined to see him be truly happy.

* * *

Bofur marched along happily, smoking his pipe and grinning like a loon. Many put it down to the fact it was a beautiful day. No rain meant his pipe was in perfect order, no clogs today, thank you very much. But those who knew him well believed something else was going on in the toy maker's head.

Bofur didn't believe in love. He believed in family, in the quest to reclaim Erebor, in loyalty and honor, and in the beauty of good food and drink. He had seen many pretty ladies, but he had never seriously considered having a family. In his time of life, a family wasn't high on his mind. Heroic deeds and dashing figures were fairy tales told to the children.

Bofur was a practical soul who believed in his work and what things he made. He loved the simple life and having his mattock securely by his side, in easy reach of his fingers. He liked his hat on his head, his pipe smoking away merrily, and his comfy boots snug on his feet.

Beyond all that, Bofur had little interest. Unlike Balin and Thorin, Bofur was content almost anywhere. He loved the thought of reclaiming Erebor, but he didn't mind the Blue Mountains, either.

As far as Jinny - the girl - was concerned, Bofur shrugged her off. She would leave them, and, in time, Thorin and company would reach the Lonely Mountain. She would be long gone and he would have other things to attend to. Things besides her pretty eyes and her long hair.

* * *

They had entered known orc territory, so the company was taking precautions. A double guard was set until they would reach Mirkwood forest. They were currently trekking across the plains of Rohan, but no men had been seen. It was rumored that the people of Rohan were nomadic and often moved with the seasons. In recent times, it was said that only small bands of warriors roamed these areas in search of orcs to kill.

Bilbo shook his head as he spoke with Bofur that night. the two of them were guarding the camp.

"You should talk to her," Bilbo said, encouragingly.

"What?" Bofur asked, startled. He looked up from the fire. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean." Bilbo stared into Bofur's eyes.

Shifting uncomfortably, Bofur changed the subject. "Lovely night tonight, don't you think?"

"Yes, I quite agree. It is a very nice night to talk to a certain someone," Bilbo teased.

"Well, I'm glad you decided to stay with us." Bofur didn't look as Bilbo as he spoke.

"I still don't know why I'm here, to be honest. But, well, it's an adventure. I wonder where we're going next." Bilbo puffed into his pipe, blowing smoke across the fire.

"To Mirkwood Forest. We have landed in the plains now. But we shall soon be there. We're following the river and the river leads straight to the forest." Bofur pointed straight ahead, waving his hand to clear some of the smoke.

Bilbo looked along the line of the river. Far off in the distance he could glimpse a few treetops. They looked ominous, but he put it down to his own imagination.

Bofur smoked his pipe quietly as Bilbo blew smoke rings over the fire.

"Do you always sit here, by the fire?" a soft voice asked.

The hobbit and dwarf looked up, surprised.

The slight figure approached and sat down opposite them, curling her arms around her knees as she stared at the flames. "Do you find peace just sitting here?"

Her voice seemed so small in the night.

Bilbo smiled at her. "It is nice to sit here and imagine I'm back at home. Takes me away from the journey at hand. Of course, in the morning it all comes back to me. But at least for a moment, I can pretend I'm back home in my armchair looking out at my garden."

Jinny nodded her head, eyes never leaving the flames as the fire crackled merrily.

Bilbo elbowed Bofur - hard.

"Ow!" Bofur yelped, rubbing his side.

"Say something!" Bilbo hissed.

"What?" Bofur whispered back.

"Anything!"

"It is nice," Bofur whispered.

"Louder!" Bilbo ordered.

"IT IS NICE!" Bofur yelled. "Are you happy now?" he glared at Bilbo. Sulking, Bofur got up and walked to the edge of the camp.

Bilbo shook his head, but stopped when he noticed Jinny smiling. "He's a good chap. And good for a laugh." Bilbo laughed along with Jinny. "So, why are you still awake?"

Jinny finally looked up from the fire. "I can't sleep. Not tonight. Not here." She shivered slightly, drawing her thin robe around herself.

"Are you cold?" Bilbo asked.

Jinny didn't answer, not wanting to ask more from these kind people. Especially from Mister Bilbo. He was such a nice person. She didn't want to admit that she didn't know what he was, but he was nice.

Bilbo got up and went over to Bofur's sack. "Come here," he beckoned to Jinny. "Maybe we can find something a bit warmer and better for you."

"Oy! What are you doing?" Bofur called as he saw Bilbo going through his stuff.

"Why don't you come here and help out?" Bilbo offered.

Bofur grumbled but obliged. If Bilbo needed something, he would help. Their burglar was, after all, a nice hobbit.

"What do you want, Bilbo?" Bofur asked, crossing his arms.

"Oh, it's not for me," Bilbo said mischievously. "I think our friend Jinny here should wear something a bit warmer. As you so kindly offered me a handkerchief when I first left Bag End, I thought you might have an extra cloak or something of the kind." Bilbo winked at Bofur.

If he hadn't seen Jinny standing behind Bilbo, Bofur surely would have cursed. Instead, being a good dwarf, Bofur pushed Bilbo aside. "Allow me," he grunted, in a gentleman-like fashion.

He had meant to be gruff, but Jinny couldn't help giggling at his tone. It was cute. Bilbo grinned at Jinny as Bofur blushed under his hat.

After much pushing and shoving, as well as much unpacking, Bofur found a good, warm cloak - an extra he had packed in case they were caught in a winter storm.

"This should do," Bilbo said, nodding his approval.

Bofur shot Bilbo a nasty look, but gently handed Jinny the cloak. "Here you go, lass," he said, kindly, a smile on his face.

Blushing, Jinny accepted the cloak, mumbling a hasty, "Thank you, sir."

"Sir?" Bofur asked Bilbo, once Jinny had retreated to the fire, new cloak wrapped securely around her. The old rag she wore before had been placed in Bofur's sack, where the warm cloak had once been. The hobbit helped the dwarf repack.

"It's better than Master or Mister, if you ask me," Bilbo replied.

"Yes, I noticed that. She must have taken a liking to you, Bilbo," Bofur teased. "I wonder why you didn't give her one of these cloaks from your pack?" Bofur stopped packing up to look at Bilbo, confused.

"Oh, she looks up to me as a father, a friend. But nothing more. She likes you, though. You should talk to her," Bilbo replied, closing Bofur's sack again, having neatly repacked. Everything he had taken out was once more in its rightful place.

"I don't think you're right about this," Bofur retorted. "But all right. I'll talk to her. Poor thing looks lost, anyway. Do you think she really lives in those mountains?" The dwarf had a slightly happy look on his face at that thought.

Bilbo rolled his eyes and shoved Bofur towards the fire. "Why are you still here? Just ask her yourself, lover boy!"

Enjoying the disgruntled curse from Bofur, Bilbo's eyes filled with mirth as he watched his friend approach the pretty girl sitting by the fire. This new hobby of his was interesting. The results were quite amusing.

Relighting his pipe, Bilbo chuckled. He now knew what fun Gandalf got through meddling. Eyes on the couple by the fire, Bilbo sat down and watched through half-lidded eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

I was asked to continue this small piece. Thank you to all the followers, readers and reviewers. I am much obliged to you all.

* * *

For Will-I-Was,

I hope you like this chapter, dear. :)

Ori was supposed to be in here more, but this chapter took a little turn on its own. Sorry! x.x

Happy New Year!

* * *

Bilbo nodded off to sleep soon after, but no one paid him much attention.

Bofur hesitantly walked up to the fire. Standing awkwardly, he realized he had nothing to say. Sure he had flirted often with the ladies back home. But, unlike the others, Bofur had never been in a relationship.

"Okay, come on," he told himself. "You can do this!"

Attempting his best smile, Bofur picked up his heavy mattock and pipe. Thankfully, the girl had yet to acknowledge his presence. So far, he was doing well.

Humming, Bofur sat on the far side, back turned to the fire. He hummed and whistled and finally softly sang as he stared out into the night.

"Far over the Misty Mountains cold  
To dungeons deep, and caverns old  
We must away ere break of day  
To find our long forgotten gold

The pines were roaring on the height  
The winds were moaning in the night  
The fire was red  
It flaming spread  
The trees like torches blazed with light..."

His voice trailed off, echoing slightly. He continued to smoke in silence, eyes watching the surrounding area in case of attack.

A small hand rested on his shoulder. "That was beautiful," the quiet, lilting tone he associated with her was awed.

She had listened to him in peace, fearful that he would stop if she moved or spoke. His voice was so beautiful. To her, it seemed a magical thing. Only when he couldn't see her had she lifted up her face from her knees. Raising her eyes from the ashes in the fire pit, she watched him in wonder. Staring at him, she had become oblivious to the rest of the camp.

With Bilbo asleep and the rest of the dwarves torn between watching, working and sleeping as well, only Ori saw the two by the fire.

"Oh, it's nothing," Bofur responded, making no move to shrug her off.

Encouraged, she sat down next to him and sighed. "It was beautiful. I haven't heard anything like it for many years."

"Weren't there people in the mountains who sang?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes, but nothing as pretty as your song. The songs they sang were dry and traditional. They never shared their beautiful music with me."

"What kinds of songs did they sing?" Bofur was curious. He had sung with his family, but only Thorin, Dwalin and Ori had been commended for their musical skills.

"Oh, the usual. The traditional work songs, hunting songs, eating songs. Nothing about adventure and beauty. Everything was task-oriented. But late at night, or when they thought I wasn't there, they would sing beautiful songs of long-ago days and forgotten treasure. Those were beautiful songs, too." A wistful look came into her eyes as she stared up at the moon.

Bofur finally turned his head to look at her when she spoke. She was beautiful, and he admitted to himself that he had sung for her. Not knowing why, he brought his hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

Startled, she caught his hand in hers. Eyes wide, mouths slightly open, the two looked at each other in shock.

Ori laughed heartily. Oh, he was glad Bilbo had asked him to take over the watch. Things were getting very interesting!

At last, Jinny moved her hand. Before she could break contact entirely, he caught her hand once more. Attempting speech, no words came out. Another moment of silence passed, neither moving away nor speaking.

Finally, she entwined her fingers in his and smiled. Moving closer to him, she rested her body against his.

Instinctively, he wrapped an arm around her in a protective manner. Shifting slightly, she used his invitation as a sign. Wrapping her free hand around his arm, she sat between his legs, her back resting on his chest. His jacket was as furry and warm-looking as his hat. It had the same smell, too - pine, ash and pipeweed. She inhaled deeply as she snuggled against him.

Bofur's heart beat faster as he watched her. Cursing himself, he had no idea what made him reach out to her like that. But by Smaug's fire, she had returned the affection. Surprised by his own boldness and her acceptance, he did nothing, not wanting to lose the moment.

And then, against all odds, she had sought him. He felt it was natural - maybe she was cold.

His heart raced as she settled herself in his arms. It was the best sensation in the world to feel her in his arms. Grinning, he he rested his head atop of hers. He breathed in her smell - maple, thyme and something else he could not place.

She felt his warmth spread over her body. She enjoyed the safety of his arms, the shelter he afforded her. She wasn't sure if it was an aftershock or if it was physical attraction, but she liked him well enough. He seemed a risk-taking fellow, strong and likeable. He laughed a lot and enjoyed food and drink. He wasn't cruel, though he did enjoy a good prank. He sang beautifully, with his baritone voice. It was heavenly. She sighed just thinking about it.

He wondered about her. Where she had come from, what she would do once she left them, and why she sought him out. But for the moment, he accepted her quiet, shy ways, her body pressed against his own, and her fascination with music. He resolved to make her sing in the morning and thought up a plan to interrogate her about her family.

For the night, though, they silently agreed to enjoy what they had together. Tomorrow would be just fine.

Ori smiled as he watched the couple fall asleep. Taking out his flute, he played a low, solemn lay.


End file.
